Belonging
by TheSoliloquy
Summary: Moments. A young Morgana sits at her sick Guardian's side and, for once, truly belongs.


**Disclaimer:** Nope, not mine.

**A/N: **First of a oneshot series I'm thinking of doing called 'Moments'- revolving mainly around Uther and how others see him. This is Morgana's POV, but I'm also hoping to do Merlin, Arthur, Gaius and Gwen.

**AND: **Gorlois was the Duke of Cornwall, so I assumed that's where Morgana's from.

Reviews would be much gratefully received; they're what keep us FF writers going!

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><p><strong>Moments<br>**...of belonging.

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A year passed and still, Morgana could not feel at home in Camelot. Its citadel lacked the delicacy and whim, the curvature and suppleness, the green and beauty of Cornwall; its walls were symmetrical, stone and… _stale_. There was no other way to describe it. After a mere fortnight she'd found herself pining for the rolling hills and vast fields of home, only to remember that _this_ was her home. She would never go back to Cornwall. Oh, she knew that her Guardian would likely grant her a trip- but even a year was not enough for her to have garnered the courage to ask. She doubted that even if she did go, she'd be able to leave it again.

Gaius- the kindly Court Physician, to whom she'd immediately taken a liking-, had noticed her melancholy, and it'd been him who'd persuaded the King to allow her to venture from the City walls. The King had consented after deliberation (rather, one look at his Ward) but with the inevitable conditions of an armed guard and her maid's accompaniment, and that she stayed in the open fields just beyond the gate. He even insisted she rode one of the older, more experienced ponies.

So began her weekly trips to the greenery.

Sometimes, she would ride her noble steed in circles. Others, she would invent a game and coerce her maid into participating. Once, even the guard were assigned roles- though, she doubted they could refuse the King's Ward in any case. She didn't let the thought ruin her games. Any time in the field, without the forever-boasting Arthur and the stern-faced King, was enough to make her happy.

Thus, she was braiding grass when the stoic Knight came to them during one such outing.

She was ridden back to the castle with him, escorted through the corridors, alive with a flurry of servants and nobles alike, past the whispering maids and to her room where she remained for a while. She sat at her dressing table, fidgeting: she'd been told nothing, knew nothing but what she'd heard from the whispering maids. And it was certainly enough to riddle her young mind with worry.

So she slipped from her room, wandering the castle until she came to the corridor of the King's quarters. It was silent, now void of the hurrying servants. With a little deliberation, she went to the hard, wooden chair normally reserved for the guard on duty during the night: stiff, uncomfortable, designed to prevent whoever was on duty from falling asleep. She sat. And she waited. For what, she wasn't sure- but she could hear the faint voices of Gaius and Geoffrey from inside the room and didn't have the courage to knock. She simply waited for the right moment.

Not long passed before it came with a click, as one of the large wooden doors cracked open and Geoffrey strode out, flashing her a glance and a nod before hurrying on his way down the corridor. The King's Ward looked back to the doorway- there, Gaius stood, an eyebrow raised. A few awkward moments of silence passed before he spoke.

"How long have you been sat there, Morgana?"

She hesitated, licked her lips, and swivelled her gaze from him to her lap and back before answering.

"A while."

He nodded mildly, as if agreeing about the weather, before looking abruptly back into the room. From where she stood, Morgana could barely hear the feeble voice address Gaius- but the Physician immediately turned back to her and took a small step into the room, holding the door open further.

"Well, then… you'd better come in, my dear." He tipped his head and, not unkindly, narrowed his eyes down at her- inviting her into the King's chambers.

Morgana gulped discreetly, hands straightening the folds of her dress by instinct. In a year, this was the first time she had ever been in the King's chambers. In a year, this was the first time she had ever even sought the King of her accord.

The weight of Gaius' hand seemed heavy on her shoulder, guiding her slowly towards the bed. And there, amidst the plump pillows and plain bed covers lay her Guardian. He was pale, unbelievably so against the white of the bed, and gaunt- as if he hadn't a years sleep. Morgana would have thought he was dead, if not for the small rise and fall of his chest.

And as if sensing his Ward's presence the King's eyes flickered open, head turning weakly towards her as she neared him.

"Morgana." He said simply, a small smile forming on his lips. His gaze moved to Gaius, and something brief and silent passed between the two men before Gaius bowed his head and left. The King turned his attention back to the young girl, "I trust… your outing went well?"

"Yes, my lord." She answered sombrely. Tears began to form in her eyes, unwilling to hold as she tried hard to blink them away. To her, the King had been the epitome of strength; seeing him now- fragile, barely able to move his head- was crushing. The rumours were undoubtedly true.

"I-I had heard that you-," She hesitated, "…collapsed… d-during court, my lord."

The King frowned,

"Is that so?"

Morgana's lips trembled and she bit them in an effort to control herself, looking down to her feet. She nodded.

The King closed his eyes for a fleeting moment, letting out a small sigh- plainly meaning to calm his thoughts but instead triggering a wheezing coughing fit. The young girl immediately jumped to his aid, though there was none she could provide. Seeing no water, she could only grip his free hand in both of hers; his, large and calloused compared to her small and dainties. There was still some childish chubbiness about the digits, and even together they barely fit around his hand, but she needed to show her affection. Who knew where she'd be without her Guardian? Tears pooled anew at this thought, something deep inside her flittering as the King's hand returned the grip, squeezing as if to show his kilter. He was still the strong King.

He settled with this, lowering his other hand from his mouth and sniffing offhandedly as his eyes roamed blindly above and then to her.

"You're crying, Morgana…" He whispered hoarsely, seeming surprised as he took his hand from her grip. With care that ill-fitted his persona, the King reached to her face and brushed a tear from her cheek- his hand remained there for a while, and with heavy-lidded eyes and pursed lips she savoured the touch.

"I…" She opened her eyes, looked him in the face with a hand over his, "don't want to lose another Father, my Lord..."

His head jerked in surprise, brow furrowing and mouth rummaging for words.

"…Oh, child." He finally sighed, cleanly this time, "I will _not_ leave you."

He motioned with his other hand, and without even knowing her own decision Morgana had her shoes off and was climbing onto the bed, crawling to him above the covers. He shifted to allow her some room; opening his arm in invitation- she complied automatically. Never before had he shown such affection, or had she received it so readily. But these things she pushed from her mind: there were no qualms as she huddled against his side, head on his shoulder and hand resting on his chest. She could feel the cold and damp skin beneath the thin nightshirt, burrowed closer as if to restore warmth to his clammy body.

The King's arm wrapped around her small body, his free hand lazily stroking her hair... She'd seen him order deaths with the same hand. Strangely, it didn't seem to bother her now. He would not leave her: the word of a King was final. Nothing would ever be as warm as the feeling of belonging in her now, such was her happiness as her eyes drifted… slowly… closed...

Gaius entered the room not one hour later to find them like that, the Ward and the King, Morgana and Uther Pendragon, deep asleep- and for the first time in a long while, he smiled.

There would come a time when Morgana would discover her true heritage and bitterness would grow in her heart, when a half-sister would cut the tether between the two, when the tyrannical King would lose his mind to betrayal and guilt.

But that is in the future: a tale for another time.


End file.
